The Games We Play
by Ash and Sorrow
Summary: Thunder rolled from the distance as rain soaked her to the bone. She ran until her chest ached and her muscles throbbed with exhaustion, desperate to put as much distance as she could between herself and her suffering.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Dragonball Z is copyright of Akira Toriyama. I don't own a damn thing.

AN: Due to recent personal issues, the original writer, Khandy, has abandoned this story and possibly all others, indefinitely. Sadden by the abandonment of her stories, I decided to take up her works less they be left unfinished. Please, do this writer a service and review, she'll he happy to know what you thought.

Part I:

Son Pan stood awkwardly in the doorway, her ebony locks, short and shaggy, falling in loose tangles into her eyes as she pulled her tatty woolen cap from her head and shoved it into the overtly large pockets of her coat.

Closing the door against the flurries that had fought its way inside, she was met by the smoky atmosphere of McVicker's, a local coffeehouse she had often went to for an espresso and a sticky bun, if the price was right. She sat at the small table by the window, wrapping her hands around a steaming cup of coffee before nodding her thanks to Charlie who polished mugs from behind the counter upfront.

Pan turned her head and stared out at the swirling snow, watching at the people who walked the streets hurried passed the shop window and then out of sight. She shivered slightly at the weather, cold and dry, and pulled up the collar of her jacket as she watched a young man furiously scrap frost from his windshield just outside the shop.

With a grimace Pan turned from the window, warming her thoughts instead with the intimate crowd who had joined her for coffee that afternoon.

An aging couple was first the catch the young woman's fancy. Sharing a frothy mocha latté in a quiet corner, the two lovers held hands, their wrinkled faces and withered frames belying the warmth and longing they held in their eyes. They kissed, leaning on each other unaware of the young saiyajin who watched them.

Pan envied the couple, as she remembered all she had left behind; her home, her family, and the supposed love of her life.

Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, but she angry forced them back, turning back to window with an indignant snort. She took another sip of her drink, vaguely aware of someone taking a seat behind her as she stared blankly into the snow flurries. She began to stir absently at her drink before lamenting on her journey home. It would be a ten minute walk back to her apartment. She started fumbling through her pockets for bus fare, but then remembering she had barely enough for a one way ticket, having spent the last of her pocket money on groceries the day before.

"Quite a storm out there?"

Pan paused and turned in her seat, lifting her brow questionably at an old man squirting lemon into his teacup. "Excuse me?"

He looked up at her with a small smile. "I said its quiet a storm out there."

The girl nodded sheepishly. "Tell me about it." She shifted into her jacket, zipping up the front, waving shortly to one of the waitress' who had finished their shift and was leaving for the evening.

"Say, haven't I seen you somewhere before?" He asked, stroking at the stubble on his chin, thoughtfully.

Pan looked at him thoughtfully, but she couldn't place him. "I come here often… I guess you've seen me here before." She shrugged, fitting into her mitts and tying the scarf that hung over his shoulders tightly around her neck.

"Are you sure? You look awfully familiar." He took a sip from his cup, his eyebrows pitching downward, bushy and unkempt, jutting from the sides of his head like an antelope's horns.

"I don't think so." Pan shook her head, gathering her things before she stood from her seat. "Anyway, I have to get going. I have a long walk home and the weather doesn't seem to be getting any better."

"You're planning on walking?" His elongated eyebrows furrowed with concern. "Surely there's someone you could call for a ride."

"No, there isn't." Pan spared a glance out the window, the winds that howled outside the shop making her shiver. "But I appreciate your concern."

"You'll sure to catch cold if you leave now. Why don't you sit a spell and wait for the storm lets up." He pulled out a seat around his table. "I could use the company … unless you have somewhere you need to be?"

Pan fumbled with her hair with indecision. "I guess it wouldn't hurt if I stayed a bit longer." She stood a seat, watching the old man wrinkled and wiry hands lace together before he rest them underneath his chin.

"So, do you live around here?"

Pan debated whether to tell him, but his old eyes were friendly and inviting so Pan felt she could trust him. "No, I don't live around her. I'm from Satan City." She shook her head, fidgeting with a napkin in her hands.

"You're a long way from home." The old man frowned. "What brings up all the way up to North City, especially this god awful time of year?"

"I have a lot of I need to get away from." Pan averted her eyes, turned back to the old man when he rested his hand over her own. His grip was firm but comforting, his large hands dwarfing her own. Pan felt safe in his company.

"Maybe talking about it will help."

Pan shook her head forcefully. "I don't want to bother you with my problems. Besides some hurts never go away, no matter how much you talk about."

"It's about love, isn't it?" The old man's mustache twitched knowingly. "I had my fair share of heartbreak, but the pain doesn't last forever." He pulled out a ratty handkerchief from his breast pocket offering it to the young saiyajin as the first of many tears slipped down her cheeks.

"Go on," The old man coaxed gently. "Tell me what happened."

Pan sighed, reminiscing as she turned to the window, the storm intensified as though reflecting her thoughts. "It all started a few months ago…"


	2. Chapter 2

Part II:

"I apologize for the wait, Mr. Briefs. I'll take you to your table right way."

The gentle murmur of conversation, coupled with the warm atmospheric melodies of a live band, filled theair as the dining room overflowed with an eclectic array of people that had joined the couple for dinner that evening.

"This place is really nice," Pan said softly; distracted by the view of the moonlit horizon just outside her window. "When you told me we were going out this wasn't exactly what I had in mind."

"Well, I thought we needed a change in pace." Trunks folded his napkin into his lap. "Besides, how often do I get the chance to see you in that sexy black dress?"

Coy, Pan blushed at the remark, her breasts lifting proudly in her corset as she reached over the table for the bread basket.

"Our compliments, Mr. Briefs," a waiter came to the table brandishing a bottle of wine. He poured the wine once he set down their menus. "May I suggest the house specialty tonight? Prosciutto di Parma e Melone," the waiter said; his rich Italian accent making the restaurant feel all the more authentic.

"That sounds delicious." Pan beamed, but Trunks waved offhandedly.

"Just give us a moment to decide."

Pan watched at the waiter left their table, breaking the dinner role in her hand. She ate quietly, noticing Trunks' expression as he stared grimly at his menu.

"Is something wrong?"

Trunks sat back in his seat, feeling his hand around in the breast pocket of his blazer for his lighter. He balanced a cigarette between his lips and lit it quickly. Blowing smoke through his nostrils in a sigh, Trunks studied his girlfriend's face for a moment. "Someone I know just decided to walk in."

"Someone I don't know?"

"My ex-girlfriend," Trunks said, his eyes narrowing as they darted across the room to a young woman who had just taken her seat.

Pan couldn't think of anything to say so she sipped from her wine glass.

"It doesn't matter. Don't let her bother you."

The young saiyajin considered what she had said a moment, sparing a quick glance over her shoulder, wondering who this enigmatic woman could have been. "Do you think she saw you? Which one is she?"

"Don't look now, but it's the woman with the red dress. She's sitting a few tables behind us."

With another discrete look over her shoulder, Pan was able to see the woman, who, no less than a year ago, had still been dating her boyfriend.

"She and I never really got along." Trunks said finally. "It was a mutual break up. It was the best decision I ever made in that relationship."

The woman in red, whose golden tresses reflected off the low lights, was dainty biting from her fork, picking at a small garden salad. Pan turned back toward Trunks, taking another piece of bread and breaking it in half. After a moment she furrowed her brow and said, "I wonder why she's alone?"

Later, the couple ate and drank with gusto, seemingly forgetting the woman in red. However, at times Pan would laugh too loudly, and Trunks would pay particular attention to his posture, his head high and shoulders back. They waited awhile for their dessert, exchanging looks before Pan daringly peaked over her shoulder again.

"She's still there, you know."

"If she's bothering you we can have our dessert somewhere else."

"No, it's alright." Pan said, gingerly tugging at a strand of hair. "If anything she's the one that should be bothered by us. She doesn't look to be having a good time… if you could see her."

It was at that moment the blonde wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin and stood. She left her table; her steps fluid, yet deliberate, the red dress, a wild and wanton thing, hugging her thighs and lifting her breasts into a generous spill of cleavage.

"Trunks? Trunks Briefs, is that you?" The blonde said tilting her head ambiguously nearly passing the couple as veered through the over crowded restaurant.

"Marron," Trunks stood greeting the girl. "What are you doing here?'

Pan sat uneasily as he embraced the pretty blonde, waiting patiently to be acknowledged. She stared into Trunks' face, ruddy and regular in the woman's presence. They had an instant rapport, completely relaxed in each other presence, when only moments before she had been almost an intrusion on their evening.

Silently, Pan began to wonder.

"I was just dropping by on business. It's been awhile since I've been back to West City." She smiled, giving his arm an affectionate squeeze. "How long has it been, Trunks? Two years? You look great."

"So do you." Trunks said, automatically.

A curt clearing of her throat turned Marron and Trunks to Pan, who in turn let her shoulders fall in a derisive shrug.

Trunks quickly interjected with a quick introduction. "Marron, this is my girlfriend, Pan. Pan, this is Marron."

Marron turned to Pan with a gesture of her hand. "It's nice to meet you."

Pan smiled, wryly. "Like wise."


	3. Chapter 3

Part III:

"So, what happened after that?" The old man brought his cup to his lips, hiding his grimace behind a swing of his drink.

"I couldn't tell you. All that matters is that he admitted to cheating on me a few weeks later." Pan held her head, wincing at the pure haughtiness of his actions. "I didn't know what to do, I was devastated…"

"…So you just picked up and left without saying goodbye." His snowy eyebrows furrowed dourly. "What about your family, your friends?"

"I needed to move on… to start over." Pan expression grew bitter, tempting to swallow her emotions, an insatiable hump of anger and heartbreak lodged deep in her throat. "But I really don't expect you to understand." She stared into the old man eyes, unreadable behind his glasses, but for a moment his face constricted in its natural wrinkles and was set in a scowl she thought look all too familiar.

"I'm so sorry."

Pan contemplated the face before her a moment. "It's okay, you didn't know."

Turning to the window again, the storm finally settled; an unsaid invitation to the young girl. She sighed, staring into the icy storefront as the storm left piles of snow drifts in its wake. She, once again, grieving on her journey home, reminding herself that it was getting late and she needed to prepare her dinner.

"So the storm has let up... I guess that means you'll be on your way."

Pan nodded sheepishly, sitting in silence with the old man, realizing for the first time she didn't even know his name. "I'm glad we were able to have this talk, mister…"

"Burke," The old man said. "Trevor Burke."

"Son Pan." She answered in an almost spontaneous chuckle, shaking his hand gingerly. She stood, shouldering her bag before retrieving her mitts and hat from out of her coat pockets. "Thanks again. It was sweet of you to keep me company… maybe one day we'll run into each other again."

Trevor smiled. "I'm sure we will."

_"Pan, please!" The young saiyajin heard Trunks' voice chase after her from behind as she ran out into the streets, blinded by anger and grief. _

_"Get away from me!" _

_Thunder rolled from the distance as rain soaked her to the bone. She ran until her chest ached and her muscles throbbed with exhaustion, desperate to put as much distance as she could between herself and her suffering._

_"Leave me alone!" She said with some measure of malice, despite how she lacked the strength to even keep up her pace so she eventually slowed. "You bastard, stay away from me!" Her tears started anew when he saw him, collapsing against him when he reached out and took her by the arms. _

_"Pan, please." His voice was ragged, eyes berating his sadness and heartbreak. _

_Pan struggled against his grip. "How could you? How could you do this to me?" She rained her tiny fists against his chest, unable to see him behind the clout of tears and rain. She thought her heart would burst in her anguish. _

_"Please, let me explain." He told her helplessly. "I still love you."_

_"Bullshit!" She snapped. "You don't do that to people you love!" She wrenched from his grip, but Trunks held fast, taking her by her wrists, determined to keep her in his power. _

_"Pan," He pleaded. _

_She stiffened instinctively at her name, forcefully keeping his eyes closed until he touched her cheek, upturning her large and powerfully sad eyes toward him. He put a hand behind her head, resting her forehead against his own. They stood like that for a moment, the rain beating down on their backs, until Pan pushed at his shoulders, stumbling away in a combination of anger and disgust. _

_"I can't do this." She shook her head. "This can't go on." _

_"Pan," Trunks looked back at her plaintively. "What are you saying?" _

_"We're through!" _

It was a long and arduous journey home and Pan hurried the last mile home as she struggled against the heavy snowdrifts and icy winds.

The conversation with Trevor Burke weighted on her conscience the entire walk, she was startled by his inquisitive nature and couldn't shake the feeling that she had seen him somewhere before. Pan never really opened up to strangers, an anti-social behavior she had developed over the last year, yet she spoke to this man with ease, despite the fact they had only just met. Now, she couldn't help but now assess her life for what it is, the old man begging the question to whether or not she had made the right choice.

Ultimately she had been a coward, unable to face her problems and move on. She had to run away and start anew, as if that would change anything. She wouldn't be able to trust another man again, and instead of trying to work their way though their problem, she had given up on him and their relationship.

She rounded the last corner before home thankfully as the wind picked up chilling her to the bone. All she wanted to do was climb into her bed and sleep for a week. She could see her little house up ahead and hurried even more, anything to get out of this miserable cold. She slowed as she approached the arch shaped entry alcove to her apartment and squinted through the snow and the dark, realizing someone stood by the doorway. She cursed mentally, wondering if it was Ludwig, her landlord, harassing her for payments on her rent, even though she had promised him faithfully she would give him his money by the end of the week.

She edged closer, rooting in her pocket to find her house key, her face settling into her customary scowl when she dealt with the irksome superintendent. "Look, Ludwig I said I'd have your money--"

"'Bout time you got home." Trunks Briefs smiled. It was starting to get cold out here."


	4. Chapter 4

Author Notes:

To all my fateful readers… whoever is left that is…

My intention was to finish this story long ago, but certain deterrents in my life left me feeling depressed and uninspired, and like lot of things, I had given up. For the most part I had given up on the Dragonball Z fandom, but yesterday I had a revelation that is sure to lead my life in the right direction, and as my first order of business is to tie up some loose ends. I never liked how this, and many other unfinished works, hung over my head, more or less the reason why things were the way they were in my life. So regardless to my feelings of the fandom, I want to finish this story and do the best job I can. I hope those who still feel my work was worth it, is willing to give me another shot.

Part IV:

"What are you doing here?" Pan asked softly, staring into the warm ambers of her tiny fireplace. She had reluctantly let him inside; the initial shock finally wore off and settled instead to bitterness and contempt.

"I wanted to… needed to see you again."

Pan's eyes narrowed grimly. "And it took you nearly a year finally to work up the nerve." She snorted with a frank and humorless chuckle, crossing the distance of the room, disappearing into the adjacent kitchenette.

Pan re-entered the room with a pot of tea, pouring herself a cup, she cuddled it in her icy grip. She sat back on her tiny couch, closing her eyes as he approached her, unbelieving that his presence was real. She winced when she felt his hand touched the stocky ends of her hair; opening her eyes at this, she studied his expression both rueful and bemused.

"You cut your hair." Trunks rolled the thick strands in his fingers.

"How observant," She answered dryly, jerking her head out of his reach. Pan was aware Trunks was stalling, but she gave him the benefit of the doubt and sipped absently at her tea. Sparing him an even glare, she took her first really look at him out of the corner of her eye. He had grown out his hair and had it pulled back in a tangled ponytail, while his face was unusually scruffy, detailing a beard that started to stubble his chin and upper lip; his novel appearance was rugged and hale. She chewed at her lip nervously, her feelings so disconcerting, that she jumped when he touched her again, his hands trailing lovingly along her forearms. Pan rested her cup shakily on the coffee table, desperately to put space between them.

"How did you find me?" Pan asked dejectedly, angry at his presence, but moreover her readiness to indulge him.

"You know you could never hide from me." He stood as well, following her as she stood by a darkened window. It was snowing again.

Pan grimaced at his proximity, the heady aroma that clung to his body making her inwardly whimper. "My father told you, didn't he?"

"Goten," Trunks said simply, looking at the brunette's expression through the window as they silently watched the snow flurries.

Trunks rested his hand against her shoulders, nuzzling her hair beneath his nose, noting the change in her shampoo and the subtle scent in her skin, vanilla with a hint of lavender. He drank her in voraciously, his eyes lidded as his arms moved to encircle her, a feathered kiss brushing along the tender region behind her ear.

"God, I've missed you. I didn't know how much I would."

The young saiyajin stood stiffly, cold and unresponsive. "Wasn't Marron there to keep you company?" She offered him a quarter of her profile, staring daggers as she turned sharply and retraced her steps towards the sofa again.

Trunks' expression grew dark, but he stilled his tongue from its instinctive backlash. "I didn't come here to argue with you, Pan." He ground out, pacing the room before stopped short of the popping fire, staring into the burning embers as he consider what he was about to say. "I want to talk... to work this through--"

"I hate you!" Pan all but screamed; her vision a blur when she looked back at him again. "You cheated and I hate you! I don't want anything to do with you! Bastard! I hate you! I hate you!" Her poisonous mantra hung heavily between them as her fists pounded at his chest as she wanting nothing more than to tear him pieces. Trunks caught her wrists, pulling her into an embrace, the scrutiny in his features belying the warmth of his arms.

"I'm sorry." Trunks whispered over her anguished sobs. "I'm so sorry."

At that moment storm crescendo in a fury; the wind screaming against the eaves, making the whole building seem to shiver in response. Pan clung to Trunks unwittingly, burying face into woollen blazer as the arrant cold chilled her to the core.

"You never could stand the cold." Trunks said softly, lowering his head to rest his face against hers.

Pan sputtered a weak laugh, pulling away to wipe at her wet face with her sleeve. She looked away as she felt his hand stroke gingerly along her back. She was determined not to lose herself in the warmth of his body, his physical power and prowess. She grimaced as her heart twisted painfully in her chest, blinking back fresh tears that jewelled in her lashes.

"Pan..." Pan couldn't miss the undertones in his voice. "You can hate me all you want. I deserve it. I screwed you, and I know I can't change what happened," He placed a hand beneath her chin, lifting her head to start into her honey-brown eyes. "But I know this Son Pan, I love you, and I want us to work this out, for us to be together… for us to be a family."

Pan's brow furrowed at his confession, pulling away slowly, holding herself as she shivered, only this time it wasn't from the cold. "A family…?"

Trunks nodded. "Yes. I've had a long time to think about this Pan, and I've realized I want spend the rest of my life with then you."

"Trunks, I--"

"I want you to marry me."


End file.
